


Promises

by birbwin



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Confessions, Fluff, M/M, Pining!Erwin, Teeny Tiny Bits of Angst, canonverse, drabble turned fic, drunk!levi, hella fluff, i forgot Levi doesn't get drunk, painfully awkward old men, sue me, who dont know how to do the romance thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 19:23:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4534200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birbwin/pseuds/birbwin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>He’s just about ready to start on his next task when his office door slams open, the wood groaning violently on its abused hinges.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>  <em>“Erwin!” Hange shouts. He shoots out of his chair when he notices that she’s actually panting against the door. “We broke Levi,” she wheezes.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises

**Author's Note:**

> You might have read the first two parts of this on tumblr or my ao3 drabbles, but i've decided to write the ending and turn it into a proper (ha!) fic-type thing. Sorry if that's the case. Comments and kudos appreciated! noot noot

Being Commander definitely has more disadvantages than advantages, Erwin finds himself thinking yet again as he eyes his drunken soldiers scattered across the bar. He’s itching to drink, to farewell his sobriety for just one night so that he can know what it is to be carefree once more.

He can’t afford to, however, and not just because of the work he has waiting for him. He will never allow his comrades to see him truly let loose, vulnerable and – most likely – humiliated. He was always a self-pitying sort of drunk; he doesn’t need his men to see the ugly sight that is his confidence crumbling, his doubts and insecurities broadcasted across the room.

He’s only here to escort, for lack of a better word, the Captain, who he promised he would not leave in Hange’s clutches all night. Levi doesn’t ask for things often, so he could hardly refuse him. He finds him sprawled across a greasy table, winces when he notices Hange giving him a 'back massage’, his spine being clobbered with hard, balled fists.

He considers, briefly, that this is probably why Levi didn't want to stay with Hange too long.

“Yay, Erwin’s here!” she screeches when she spots him. Levi rolls around in what was probably meant to be a smooth move, but results with him rolling off the table and onto the floor with a grunt.

Definitely drunk.

“Errrwiiiiin,” he coos. “You came for meee.” He crawls towards his legs and holds onto one of them tight, looks up at him with glazed, half-lidded eyes.  _Bedroom eyes_ , Erwin thinks before he can stop himself.

He quickly suppresses the thought.

“Sina, you’re way too drunk,” he sighs. “Can you even walk?” Levi belches and Erwin figures that’s probably a no. Hange has fluttered away to offer Nanaba a death massage, so at least he knows she won’t have to be taken back too.

He picks Levi up by his arms and makes him stand, walks him out the bar like a proper friend should. Once he’s on the footpath back to headquarters, however, and no one is around, he simply flings the man over his shoulder.

“M’not your fuck’n wife,” Levi grumbles half-heartedly, but rings his arms around his neck nonetheless. Erwin hopes he doesn’t notice his pulse pick up. After a minute of walking, Levi apparently has a change of heart, because now he is slurring things like “good strong commander” and “so big n’smart” as he pats his back.

Erwin humours him as he walks, responds with an assortment of “is that so?”, “I see”, and “very nice”, even a sarcastic “well said” here and there. Eventually Levi tires and tucks his head into Erwin’s neck with a big sigh.

Erwin stiffens at the intimate gesture, barely knows how to register it, but he does know better than to address it right now.

“You sigh like a man who has seen it all,” he chuckles instead.

“I hope we die t’gether,” Levi mumbles randomly in response. He closes his eyes and tightens his hold.

“What,” Erwin stammers, confused at the spiral from drunken banter to unchecked melancholy. “Why?”

“Whadda y’mean why,” he slurs lazily, “cause if y’die I’d miss you.”

“I see,” he says with a smile. He recognises that it’s a private thought, something uttered mindlessly under the influence of hard liquor, so he doesn’t prod for more. It wasn’t his right to hear it, so he has no right to act on it. Instead, in a daring move, he rubs his back softly until he sleeps.

Only after he drops the captain into his bed does he whisper, “I’d miss you too.”

He retires to his quarters and spends the rest of the night grinning at his ceiling.

* * *

 It becomes routine for Erwin to pick Levi up from the bar, rescuing him from the likes of Hange and Mike when he’s too inebriated to protect himself from their shenanigans. At least once every fortnight he escorts him back to headquarters, humanity’s drunkest slung over his shoulder like a cheap leather skin from the market.

Erwin enjoys the way Levi prattles when he’s unguarded, inane banter easily slipping off his tongue. He learns more and more about his private thoughts, although he tells no one and acts on nothing he hears. Their time spent together is intimate, comfortable, and Levi doesn’t complain anymore when Erwin picks him up – just holds on tight and releases little puffs of air against his neck. It doesn’t take long for Erwin to decide that it’s one of his favourite sensations.

Of course, it didn’t take long for the others to notice their little ‘habit’ either. One fateful night he had entered the bar at the usual time, eyes immediately searching for one grumpy corporal, when Mike – particularly plastered – had taken it upon himself to help.

“Levi!” he had half-shouted, “mummy’s here ta’pick’ya up!”

Hange had snorted loudly through her nose, spraying all in her vicinity with beer. “More like husband!” she hooted. The corporal’s squad, highly disturbed, had blushed fiercely on his behalf. Levi, red-faced and scowling, had merely mumbled for them to fuck off.

A few days later, as he expected, he informed Erwin that he wouldn’t need his help getting home from the bar anymore.

Erwin had simply nodded, feigned indifference – a flimsy, makeshift emotional band-aid to conceal his own hurt. Truth be told, his drunken adventures with Levi quickly became the only thing he looked forward to, even if all he did was serve as transportation. “All the more time to do paperwork,” he jested, and Levi had offered a weak twitch of his lips in response.

He reconsiders these events, now, as he sits behind his desk and taps a folder with his quill.

The others are out drinking, and it’s right about the time that he would have usually left for the bar. He hasn’t escorted Levi for a good month, and he misses it. Misses him. He grows flustered as his thoughts stray, recalling the feeling of black silk slipping through his fingers as he cradled his head; the feeling of his small, solid warmth gathered in his arms whenever he carried him back to base.

Mostly he misses Levi’s chatter, the useless, random pieces of his subconscious that he would allow Erwin access.

He tries to convince himself the intimacy wasn’t real, because no matter how he looks at it, none of it was consensual. He was privy to his thoughts by convenience alone. Even if Levi had occasionally slurred something that made his heart knock wildly in his chest, a little ‘I’d miss you’ here and a little ‘stay with me’ there, what did it matter if he would never say it to him sober?

So he resumes his paperwork, limbs heavy with a different brand of exhaustion and fatigue. If he’s going to mope, he might as well be productive. He’s just about ready to start on his next task when his office door slams open, the wood groaning violently on its abused hinges.

“Erwin!” Hange shouts. He shoots out of his chair when he notices that she’s actually panting against the door. “We broke Levi,” she wheezes as she advances forward.

“What – is he hurt?” he prompts, feeling ice-cold panic surge underneath his skin.

She hesitates before answering. “No, just…just come to the bar. I’ll explain on the way.”

He grabs his uniform jacket and follows her out the door, nerves calmed by the knowledge that he must not be seriously injured.

“What did you and Mike do,” he asks knowingly as they walk briskly towards the shoddy little tavern in sight.

“We…just messed with his head a little, you know? And then he just, he bloody lost it!”

“Hange.”

“We told him you were dead,” she admits in one quick, anxious breath. It's a strange thing to see Hange intimidated.

“What? Why would you do that?”

“Lets just say we wanted to test a theory.”

She continued to explain, albeit reluctantly, when Erwin raised a thick, unimpressed brow at her.

“Well, we always suspected that he…had feelings for you…and we thought we could make him admit it, so we made Oluo run through the front door with this whole act, saying you got stabbed by some assassin. He was drunk enough to believe it and he got hysterical, started getting violent and throwing punches around. Even Mike couldn’t stop him, got hit straight in the nose. He wouldn’t believe it was a joke and now he won’t listen to anyone.”

Erwin grimaced as he processed all the information. “I see. Where was he when you left him?”

“Crying under a table.” He looked to her face, unbelieving, but her expression was stern.

“Sina,” he cursed. “You had _no_ right, Hange.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” She hangs her head, eyes averted. He thinks that at the very least, she really does look guilty. “I think he really loves you, Erwin...we didn't think it was that serious.” 

He chooses not to reply.

The bar is eerily quiet when he steps inside, all the other soldiers glancing at him nervously as he steps over broken glass and navigates around toppled furniture. Nanaba is pressing tissues to Mike’s bloodied nose, Petra and Eld tending to bruises on Oluo’s face.

Hange points silently to an isolated table at the back, and Erwin doesn’t miss the way everyone keeps a safe distance from it. “Everyone go home,” he barks, extremely vexed by it all, “the night is over. I’ll deal with you all later.” The bartenders don’t put up a fight, and even people who aren’t from the Corps quickly scurry out.

He has to bend down low to make out Levi’s form once he approaches the table, almost kneels down completely just to get a glimpse of his head.

Levi is tucked in on himself, knees to chest, looking like a wounded animal. The sight makes his heart ache.

“Levi,” he whispers, voice tender now that there’s barely anyone around. Levi looks up at him, eyes red-rimmed, nose and cheeks blotchy. He can’t tell if he has sobered up or not.

“It was just a prank.” He scoots closer when Levi doesn’t move or respond, dares to extend a hand out for him to take.

“Come out, let’s go back to headquarters and I – we’ll run you a bath.” The offer should be tempting given that the corporal has apparently thrown up on himself, but apparently not tempting enough.

After a moment of silence in which nothing is achieved, he sighs before laying down flat on his stomach and dragging himself under the table using his forearms. He barely fits but there’s just enough space to sit upright.

The act seems to break something in Levi, and he looks at him now with something close to adoration. Erwin is taken by surprise when he abruptly flings himself at him, arms grabbing tightly around his torso, face quickly burying into his neck. “Don’t die,” he croaks, and Erwin instantly brushes a hand through his hair, uses the other to wrap around his waist protectively.

“I won’t,” he says, even though he knows how ridiculous the words are, how irrational a promise it is. There are few things he wouldn’t do for Levi, and he is surprised to find that he will lie for him if he has to, if he requests it. He will not deny him a single thing he can give.

“I wont,” he says again when he feels fresh tears wet against his neck, whispers it into his forehead as he presses his nose into his hair.

“I’m taking you back,” he says firmly. Levi nods tiredly and holds on tight as Erwin manoeuvres them both out from under the table. It’s difficult but he manages. The bar is empty, and only the lone bartender gives him a quizzical glance as he walks past with Levi cradled against his chest. He wonders at the comical sight they make.

“I can walk, y’know,” Levi grumbles softly after a few minutes, remembering himself, pride returning full force. He lifts his head up and tries to pry himself away. 

Erwin gently pushes his face back into his neck. “No,” he says bluntly, and Levi doesn’t attempt it again. “When we get back I’m going to clean you up. And then I’m going to kiss you.”

It’s not a proposal.

“Shit,” Levi breathes, and he feels the small hand on his back fist tight into the material of his uniform shirt. He speaks after a while, his voice low and hesitant. “Where?”

“Everywhere,” Erwin promises, and this time it’s a vow he can keep.

* * *

 As usual, he only puts Levi down once headquarters has come into sight, and he is instantly sorry for the loss. Most people have gone to bed, and those soldiers who are still awake slither away at the sight of them approaching. They give awkward salutes and quick excuses, no doubt already warned of the Commander's foul mood. He nods at them sternly, ignoring the curious looks their way. He doesn't need to look behind him to know that Levi is following.

They enter his quarters and he closes the door behind him, the wood slamming with a kind of finality that immediately makes Levi uneasy. He knows it's the exact moment he begins to doubt it all, so he smiles at him, reassuring.

"I'll go run you a bath."

Levi nods absently as he fidgets, appears to be conflicted.

Erwin watches him stand awkwardly in the centre of the room, as though afraid that moving an inch in any given direction would prematurely decide the night's events. The vomit on his clothes has dried up and the sight of it reminds him of the bath. He realises, vaguely, that it must be all over his clothes, too. As soon as he turns his back, Levi calls out to him.

"Erwin." 

He faces him, eyebrow raised in question.

"You know all that stuff tonight...that was just...I was really drunk, you know. You don't have to do this."

He feels a familiar brand of disappointment overcome him, the poison stab of rejection twisting deep within. Could it have been the alcohol, after all?

"Do you say that because you really don't want this, or because you're nervous? Be honest with me, Levi. I need to know."

Levi shrinks a little under his gaze, and Erwin takes his trembling hand into his own. When he says nothing, he takes his coyness as a response, and moves to press a soft kiss to it. Levi suddenly pulls away, eyes blown wide and mouth gaping. He holds the violated hand to his chest protectively.

Erwin fails to keep the hurt from showing on his face. He takes a few steps back from him, feet dragging like cement, a man stung.

"Shit - I'm sorry, i've...i've never done this kind of thing before," Levi admits quietly, avoiding his gaze. A fierce blush spreads across his face.

Courtesy of Hange's incessant gossip, he's heard enough about his frisky adventures to know he's had some experience, so he recognises that what Levi refers to is intimacy, to tender caresses and the slow worship of tongue and lips on quivering skin.

Levi has already predicted what kind of lover he is, and he's not wrong.

"That's not an answer," Erwin says in return, because he will not drag this out any longer, and roundabout responses will not do.

And then, finally, finally,  _finally_  he hears the words he has wanted to hear for so long, the confession of his frenzied dreams.

"Fuck, Erwin, of course I want this, want _you_...but this is too much, it's too soon." Levi scowls a little, his expression morphing into something half flustered, half pained.

"Alright," Erwin whispers softly, soul soaring, body and mind paper light. "That's fine, we'll move slowly. I would never do anything you didn't want or consent to, surely you know -"

"Yeah but, fuck, Erwin, you keep looking at me like _that_ and it's just i'm...i'm overwhelmed." He is endearing in his bashfulness and Erwin aches to reach out for him again.

Instead he shuffles awkwardly, unsure of what to do, or how exactly he has managed to make him uncomfortable. He's barely even touched him yet. "Looking at you how?" he prods.

Levi crosses his arms at the question. "Like...like, fuck, i don't know, all googly eyed and sappy." Erwin chuckles, and Levi huffs out the usual ' _you know I'm not good with words'_.

Erwin sighs, but the smile that follows is fond. "I didn't mean to intimidate you, I apologise. But either way you need a bath, so I'll get it ready for you. I won't come in...unless you want me to."

Levi visibly relaxes at the words, and this time his nod is more firm, more decided.

And so he draws him a hot bath, even going so far as to perfume the water with the forgotten bath oils he was gifted from a clingy admirer in the Capitol. Levi lingers behind him, still a little tense but not as much as before. He raises an eyebrow at the scent of lavender and rose, but says nothing, and Erwin knows he approves. He adds some soap to the water so that bubbles build and clump on the surface, more for the appearance than anything.

Erwin stands up, rolling his sleeves back down to his wrists, and indicates to the tub. "Take your time. I'll wait outside, I have some things I need to do before the night is over." The excuse is a mercy that saves Levi the awkwardness of dismissing him, and his eyes reflect something like gratitude.

"Thanks," he mutters, and Erwin nods.

"You're welcome. All that matters is that you're feeling better."

"Yeah," Levi exhales, face flushed with embarrassment now, most likely at the memory of Erwin collecting him from the bar and carrying him home like a damsel in distress. The event already feels so long ago, the last hour stretched by fatigue and emotion alike. "I'm never drinking again," he declares.

Erwin chuckles before turning away and making for the door. The moment is incomplete without a kiss, without a soft touch or the press of skin on skin, but he doesn't want to give more than Levi is ready to take.

"Erwin," Levi calls for the second time that night. His stance is coy, eyes darting from place to place, finding nowhere safe to rest. "You said that you would kiss me...everywhere." His face burns even brighter and Erwin would give anything to feel the supple flesh of his flushed cheeks under his lips.

"Yes, I did promise that," he replies softly, "but promises don't have to be fulfilled right away." He feels foolish now for the arrogant confidence with which he had all but growled it. He should have known that Levi would need time, attention, assurances of safety and love. Why did he ever think that he could rush into this, that Levi would give himself wholly and completely after so little? He realises, briefly, that it is because they have been stuck in this dance for too long. For him, the relationship had begun the very first time he had carried him home.

"Can I?" He puts his hand out, an offering, a renewal, and Levi tentatively extends his own. He brings the small hand up to his lips and presses a soft kiss into the bone of a weathered knuckle, then turns it over and honours his sweaty palm with the same affection.

Levi is smiling slightly when he finally looks at him. "I'm glad you're alive," he whispers, and Erwin says "me too."

He releases his hand and leaves, thinking that although he will surely reprimand Hange tomorrow, he has never been more indebted to someone in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> $10 says the bathtub scene summons Twistedk.
> 
> Find me at birbwin.tumblr.com


End file.
